24 Miami
by SolidX3
Summary: The year is 1986, and rookie LAPD agent Jack Bauer finds himself out of a job due to his shootfirstaskquestions later antics during a botched undercover drug bust. But when he gets there, things take a turn for the worse..
1. 24 Miami: The Prequel

24: MIAMI

INT. WAREHOUSE – DAY

LOS ANGELES, 1986

A forklift slowly moves through a large, decrepit warehouse carrying a payload of four, massive boxes. It drops them off, turns around and heads back for a few more. Each of the boxes read "FRAGILE". TONY ANGELO, a short, fat mob kingpin watches from the catwalk above. He takes a puff from his fat cigar and checks his watch...

ANGELO: Late...I knew it.

FRANCO, his right-hand-man approaches him.

ANGELO: What is it, Franco?

FRANCO: Mr. Castillo is waiting for you, sir.

Angelo nods and follows Franco to the first floor.

INT. SMALL OFFICE – DAY

MARTIN CASTILLO waits in a small office on the bottom floor of the warehouse. The place is disgusting – the walls are peeling, the ceiling is riddled with holes and the floor is covered in dark, mysterious stains.

Castillo is your typical playboy type – tanned skin, neat blond hair, flashy jewelry and a white linen suit. He's got his feet up on the table and is reading a GLOBE magazine.

Just as he flips a page, the door opens. He looks over and sees Franco and Angelo enter. Castillo sets the magazine and looks up Angelo, a smile on his face.

CASTILLO: You must be Tony Angelo – pleasure to meet you.

He extends a hand.

ANGELO: Get your fuckin' feet off my table.

Castillo does so.

CASTILLO: Sorry – I didn't mean to offend you, sir.

Angelo sits down across from Castillo.

ANGELO: Now listen, Mr. Castillo – I don't know who you are and frankly – I don't give a fuck. I'm a businessman and I don't have any time for small talk. So lets get started.

CASTILLO: Sure thing. You know the deal, right?

ANGELO: $50,000 for 5 keys. I assume you've brought the cash.

CASTILLO: Of course. Fifty grand in small bills. You know...it would've been easy if you let me wire the money. But, never mind that. Show me the powder.

Franco sets a suitcase down on the desk in front of Castillo. He flips open the locks, revealing five large plastic bags filled with white powder. Castillo nods his head in approval.

CASTILLO: Well it looks like you've held up to your bargain, all right. Do you mind if I have a taste?

ANGELO: Go ahead. Just make it quick.

Castillo cuts open a bag and dips a finger inside. He pulls is hand back and touches his powder covered finger to his tongue...

Suddenly, his face turns BRIGHT RED and Castillo goes into a coughing fit.

CASTILLO (spitting the powder out): What the hell is this shit?

ANGELO: Pure Colombian. The best of the best. A little strong for you?

CASTILLO: Yeah...yeah...

ANGELO: So...now that it's settled in, what do you think.

CASTILLO: I'm gonna give it to you straight up...you have the right to remain silent.

Angelo's face LIGHTS UP in RAGE. Castillo DIVES out of his chair just as Angelo pulls out a DESERT EAGLE and starts blasting.

As bullets EXPLODE the coke bags, Castillo crawls forward and ARCS his leg at Angelo, sweeping him to the floor. He quickly gets up and disarms Franco with a JAB to the stomach.

Castillo draws his police issue Colt 45 and displays his badge...this man is not who we think he is. His name is JACK BAUER and he's part of the LAPD's vice squad. He ditches the fake Latin accent.

JACK: Nobody move! Franco – you get on your knees, face the wall and put your hands on your head. Angelo – lie face down with your arms stretched toward me. Backup's on the way, so don't you even think about doing anything stupid.

ANGELO: Bauer...you son of a bitch!

JACK: C'mon, Tony – it ain't that bad. You've been to prison before. Just remember...sleep with one eye open, don't piss off your cellmate and most importantly...don't drop the soap. Follow those rules and you'll be just fine.

ANGELO: Thanks for the advice, Jack. But I have some other plans.

Angelo sticks two fingers in his mouth and WHISTLES. Within seconds, suit clad mafiosos swarm the area, submachine guns trained on Jack.

JACK: Oh...shit.

MOBSTER: Don't fuckin' move!

Jack looks for a way out. There is none.

He keeps his gun on Angelo.

JACK: Take another step and I'll blow his fuckin' brains out!

ANGELO: Go ahead, Jack. Might as well take me down with you.

JACK: Shut up.

And with that, Angelo SPRINGS UP and DECKS Jack in the face with a right cross. He spins back, blood flying out of his mouth. Franco runs forward and SLAMS Jack in the sternum with a FLYING KICK. The force of the blow sends him FLYING through the flimsy wooden door and into the warehouse.

ANGELO: Kill him.

Jack gets up and pulls his sidearm from his coat – a tiny PPK pistol. As thugs pour out of the office, he OPENS FIRE, covering himself as he retreats behind a stack of crates.

The thugs UNLOAD on him, SPRAYING the crates with bullets. White powder leaks out from each of the holes, quickly forming piles of cocaine on the floor.

Jack scoops up a pile of the powder in his hand and moves away from the crates. He takes a thug by surprise – throwing powder in his eyes and grabbing his Tec-9. He SLAMS the thug into metal pillar, knocking him out cold.

Franco ducks down and FIRES at Jack. Rounds SPARK off the pillar, ricocheting rounds. Two of the stray bullets hit a thug, killing him.

Jack returns fire, sending Franco scattering for shelter. He whips around and rolls in the cocaine, FIRING his Tec-9. Angelo and three thugs unload a simultaneous onslaught of bullets at him, sending cocaine and woodchips flying.

Jack stops momentarily and places a round in the forehead of the thug standing right next to Angelo. Blood SPLATTERS all over his white suit, staining it crimson.

ANGELO: BAUER!

Angelo runs forward, BLASTING. Jack dives and rolls. He gets up and runs into a maze of boxes, Angelo and this thugs close behind. As he cuts a corner, the forklift pulls right ahead of him with a thug in the driver's seat...armed with a machine pistol.

He FIRES. Jack fakes right and leaps into the forklift, throwing the thug off his seat. He takes control of the vehicle and backs up, CRUSHING the thug.

Three scumbags left. Jack speeds forward, thugs running from the forklift. Angelo is still coming up from behind, FIRING his Desert Eagle. Slugs SLAM the vehicle, SPARKING off the metal.

Two of the thugs jump right in front of Jack, spraying. He SWERVES, letting the forklift collide with one. The thug is launched sideways into a pillar. The other keeps firing. Jack backs up, turns around and RAMS him straight on, impaling the scumbag of the lifting mechanism.

Franco suddenly appears on top of the crates and OPENS FIRE on Jack. A round pierces the gas tank, causing BLACK SMOKE to rise from the vehicle.

Jack jumps out as it careens toward a stack of crates and COLLIDES, triggering a MASSIVE EXPLOSION! The force of the blast sends FRANCO FLYING! He smacks to the ground, spine snapped to pieces.

Just Jack and Angelo left.

ANGELO: You're pretty good, pig. But not good enough.

BOOM! Angelo FIRES, hitting Jack in the shoulder. He screams and hits the ground, dropping his gun. Angelo slowly moves forward.

ANGELO: Whaddaya say, Jack? One in the head for a quick finish or a couple in the chest for an open casket.

JACK: Neither.

ANGELO: I'm afraid that's not an option, Jack.

JACK: We'll see about that.

Jack spots a fallen thug's Colt 45 lying nearby. Without hesitation, he goes for it. Angelo FIRES, pumping two rounds into a crate.

Jack picks it up, rolls over and BLASTS two rounds – taking out both of Angelo's kneecaps. The fat mobster screams, drops his weapon and collapses into the fetal position. Jack holsters the 45, kneels down next to Angelo and cuffs him with a zip-tie.

JACK: You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law...you've been in this position before so I'll spare you the rest of the details. Anyway, sit tight – LAPD's gonna be here any minute to haul your fat ass up to County.

Jack pats Angelo on the back.

EXT. WAREHOUSE – DUSK

Jack sits on the hood of his puke green 1984 Buick Skyhawk smoking a cigar. LAPD has swarmed the area – surrounding the warehouse with black-and-whites and hauling out body bag after body bag. POLICE CHIEF WILLIAM DONOVAN approaches Jack. He's a rotund, mustached man with a cheap suit and a head of thinning hair.

DONOVAN: Jack Bauer...can you go anywhere without leaving a body count behind you?

JACK: Believe me, I've tried. It just never works out.

DONOVAN: The commander has been chewing me out ever since I brought you into the Vice Squad...and now I'm starting to think I should have listened to him in the first place.

JACK: Sorry, sir – I'm just doing my job.

DONOVAN: 10 men dead, $500,000 in property damage and a federal witness in a wheelchair...how's that gonna look on your record?

JACK: Look, sir, you got what you wanted. Tony Angelo is going to prison, his operations have been shut down and over 100 kilos of cocaine has been seized. Now tell me...did I do something wrong?

DONOVAN: In theory, no, but we at the LAPD do things by the book. Listen, Jack, you're a damn fine cop. One of the finest this precinct has ever had. But this time you have gone to far...I spoke with the commander...he wants you off the force.

Jack exhales.

DONOVAN: I know how it must feel, Jack...and don't you even think I'm gonna let talent like you go to waste. I just got off the phone with a new agency in Miami. They're just getting started and could use a guy like you.

JACK: Vice?

DONOVAN: No. The Counter Terrorist Unit. They're a branch of the CIA dedicated solely to combating terrorist threats. And right now they're dealing with the Cuba situation and need all the help they can get. You in?

JACK: Yeah.

DONOVAN: Good.

Donovan reaches into his coat and hands Jack a plane ticket.

DONOVAN: That's you're ticket. You leave tomorrow.


	2. 24 Miami: Hour I 6 AM 7 AM

-24 MIAMI-

HOUR I: 6:00 AM – 7:00 AM

6:00 AM, 3 miles off the coast of Miami.

A black speedboat moves through the waters as the sun begins to slowly peak through the clouds. On the boat are five men, dressed in all black. Piloting the craft is ROMERO CORTEZ

One of the men, CASPER GONZALEZ taps Cortez on the back.

CASPER: Sir, radar picked up an unknown vessel heading toward us from behind.

CORTEZ: Probably the coast guard. I'm shutting the lights off...now

Just as Cortez reaches for the kill switch...the CHATTER of machine gun fire rattles overhead.

A COAST GUARD helicopter zooms by and flips a 180 to face the speedboat. It shines a spotlight down, momentarily blinding Cortez.

GUNNER: This is the United States Coast Guard. Bring your boat to a stop immediately or you will be fired upon.

CASPER: What should we do?

CORTEZ (draws pistol): What we're being paid for!

Cortez takes aim and FIRES on the chopper. His silenced .45 is loaded with armor piercing rounds – they have no problem shredding through the bullet proof glass and perforating the pilot.

The gunner FIRES as the chopper sinks into the waters. As his men fall around him, Cortez keeps FIRING. His first shot hits the gunner right between the eyes, killing him right before the craft is completely submerged.

A coast guard boat speeds by. Without warning, the three gunners inside start SPEWING BULLETS. Casper takes control of the boat and maneuvers around the hailstorm of bullets, Cortez covering him with scattered shots from his 45.

As the boats get closer and closer, Cortez sinks below the outer wall of the speedboat and grabs an AK-47 from one of his fallen men. He pops back up and SPRAYS. The two gunners are instantly killed.

The third man goes for cover, but Cortez nails him with two shots to the torso. Only the captain's left. He picks up his radio to call for reinforcements. Cortez BLOWS his hand off before he can even speak, and then proceeds to tear him to shreds.

He lowers the smoking assault rifle and looks around for any reinforcements. There are none.

CASPER: That all of 'em, sir?

Casper slides on a wetsuit and begins preparing a scuba kit. He straps the air tank on and connects it to an intake.

CORTEZ: Yeah. Only one thing left to take care of.

CASPER: What's that?

CORTEZ: You.

Cortez shoots him through the head and casts the empty AK-47 aside. He then puts on a backpack, hops off the boat and begins his long swim to shore.

INT. PLANE – MORNING

An American Airlines jet flies by as it makes its descent into the city of Miami. Inside are over 200 passengers – most watching enthusiastically as the city draws nearer and nearer. Sitting in the very back row of coach class is Jack Bauer. His legs are sore from the lack of room and he's flanked by two morbidly obese people...a man and a woman, both at least 400 pounds.

Jack tries not to stare as he reads his Soldier of Fortune magazine. The woman wakes up from her sleep and taps him on the shoulder. Jack faces her, holding in a laugh.

WOMAN: Are we there yet?

Jack peeks past her husband to check the plane's location. Miami International Airport is visible.

JACK: Just a few more minutes, ma'am.

He then raises his Soldier of Fortune back to eye level and lets out a deep sigh of relief as the plane touches down.

EXT. SOUTH BEACH – DAWN

The sun rises over South Beach, casting an orange glow on the sea of white sand beaches and art deco buildings. Scantily clad woman frolic on the beaches, surfers ride the waves and tourists wander the streets – stopping at shops on the way.

A black Maserati cruises slowly through traffic, caught in a crowd of rental cars driven by confused tourists. ANTONIO VARGAS is driving the car. He's frustrated – sweating and constantly checking his Rolex. The man's also obsessed with himself, adjusting his hair every five seconds and rolling a lint brush across his tangerine suit.

He looks at his watch and SLAMS the horn.

VARGAS: ing tourists.

The light turns green and Antonio pulls forward to the Colony Hotel. The VALET approaches the car.

VALET: Morning sir, welcome to the Colony Hotel. Can I help you with your car and baggage?

VARGAS: Just the car.

He hands him the keys.

VARGAS: If you so much as scratch it – your whole family dies. Do you understand?

VALET: Yes, sir.

VARGAS: Good.

Vargas gets out of the car and the valet gets in, carefully driving to the valet lot. Vargas enters the hotel through the front doors.

INT. COLONY HOTEL LOBBY – MORNING

Vargas fixes his hair and makes his way through the lobby, surrounded by tourists. He turns and enters the hotel's restaurant where he's greeted by the receptionist.

RECEPTIONIST: Can I help you, sir.

VARGAS (Looking around the place): No.

Vargas continues and takes a seat at a table across from another man – ARMANDO ORTEGA. Ortega was one of Cuba's top drug kingpins before the Mariel boatlift, and now that he's in America, he's quickly building up a new drug empire. He is tall, brooding and impeccably dressed.

ARMANDO: You're late, Antonio.

VARGAS: ing tourists – you know how it is.

ARMANDO: Of course. Would you like some champagne.

VARGAS: Yes, please.

Armando pulls a bottle of Cristal from an ice bucket in front of him and pours a glass for Vargas.

ARMANDO: We've got quite a day ahead of us, my friend – please enjoy it while you still can.

Vargas gulps down the champagne in a single chug.

ARMANDO: Well it looks like our little job this morning didn't go off as planned.

VARGAS: What do you mean?

ARMANDO: As Cortez and his crew were returning from Cuba, the coast guard spotted them. Needless to say, there was a confrontation.

VARGAS: And...?

ARMANDO: Cortez survived. He's at the docks right now with the goods. After we're done here, I'm going to go pick them up.

VARGAS: What are the plans for today?

ARMANDO: I just received word from my source – our man is in town.

VARGAS: Excellent. Where and when is our operation going to begin.

ARMANDO: Now. I have the blueprints to the building – it lists all the possible vantage points and blind spots. Now that you are here, I want you to call Caine and assemble a team of our best people. Oh, and make sure to let them know that the target is not to be harmed. He's no good to us dead.

VARGAS: I understand. I will call Caine immediately.

INT. BILTMORE PRESIDENTIAL SUITE – MORNING

DAVID PALMER sits alone in his lavish room going over a speech. This is not the Palmer we know – his head is dripping with jerry curls, he's got a mustache and goatee and is dressed in a purple suit. As he revises his speech, he nods his head to Genesis' "Invisible Touch" as it plays on the radio.

PALMER (Muttering): On this great day...I announce my candidacy for mayor of this city...I hope to...

There's a knock at the door.

PALMER: Come!

His head of security, AARON PIERCE enters. He's got a distressed look about him...something's not right.

PALMER: I don't like that look, Aaron...what's wrong now? A financer pull out?

PIERCE: No, it's much worse. We have reason to believe there might be an attempt on your life today.

Palmer chuckles.

PALMER: We get death threats every day, Aaron. What makes this one so much different?

PIERCE: The CIA has activated the Counter Terrorist Unit to assess the situation. And that only happens when the threat is substantial...they're placing sharpshooters throughout the courtyard to provide you cover.

Palmer's grin disappears into a frown.

PALMER: Tell me all you know.

PIERCE: CIA intercepted a message from a hate group known as the Imperial Knights. They're the ones responsible for several lynching and bombings in the last 10 years. And your opponent is a former member of them.

PALMER: So you're saying Congressmen Pike has ordered this?

PIERCE: It's highly unlikely, sir, but we are not ruling it out.

PALMER: Alright. Get me Pike on the phone.

PIERCE: That wouldn't be wise, sir. If you tell Pike about this, he'll be sure to incriminate you in his next speech. David, your numbers are already sagging in the polls – and if Pike claims that you accused him of such a thing, it'll be over.

Palmer takes a moment to think.

PALMER: You're right. Thanks, Aaron.

PIERCE: My pleasure, sir.

Pierce exits the room.

INT. MIAMI INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT – MORNING

DING. The baggage claim carousel begins to spin and luggage FLIES from the chute. As anxious travelers wait for their bags, Jack Bauer studies his surroundings. The airport is unlike anything he's ever seen before – ultra-modern artwork is hung on the walls, windows stretch from the floor to the ceiling and glass sculptures are on display. A big change from industrialized Los Angeles.

His small bag shows up on the carousel. Jack picks it up and leaves the airport.

EXT. MIAMI INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT – MORNING

Jack walks out the front door and sees a white Volvo station wagon in front of him. It's got government plates...his ride. The driver, FERNANDO

ALMEIDA motions to him.

TONY: Bauer! Over here!

Jack gets in the passenger's seat and slams the door shut. The interior is standard government issue – basic upholstery, a radio unit and a shotgun between the two front seats. Fernando looks over to Jack, eyes obscured by a pair of oversized aviators.

FERNANDO: Jack Bauer. Chief Donovan's told me a lot about you. I'm Fernando Almeida.

They shake hands.

JACK: Good things, I hope.

Fernando drives out of the terminal and gets on the freeway. He turns up the radio. Don Johnson's "Heartbeat" is playing.

FERNANDO: You ever been to Miami before?

JACK: No.

FERNANDO (Chuckles): Well you're in for quite the rude awakening, my friend.

JACK: Can't be that bad.

FERNANDO: We'll see what you think about that in a couple of hours.

JACK: You know LA ain't no pushover either. Spend a little time in South Central and you'll see what I mean.

Fernando chuckles.

EXT. COLONY HOTEL – MORNING

Armando Ortega exits the hotel and slips on a pair of sunglasses. He pulls a MASSIVE BRICK CELL PHONE off of his belt and places a call.

Vargas answers.

VARGAS: Yes?

ARMANDO: Antonio, what's the status on your team?

VARGAS: Everything is going right on schedule. Gonzalez and his men are on their way. We'll be out by 8.

ARMANDO: Good. That will provide sufficient time to set everything up.

VARGAS: And you?

ARMANDO: I'm on my way to the docks right now to pick up Cortez's cargo. I will call in about an hour.

Armando hangs up and gets in his Ferrari.

Just as he drives away, Fernando Almeida's Volvo rolls into view, slowly cruising through the traffic.

INT. VOLVO – MORNING

Jack is ogling all the bikini-clad women through the window. Fernando shakes his head.

JACK: You know, Fernando, I'm starting to like this place already.

FERNANDO: You haven't seen anything yet, my friend. Later on, I'm gonna take you to –

Fernando's cut short when...

The Colony Hotel ERUPTS in a ball of FLAME! The famous façade is literally ripped to shreds, sending neon lit letters FLYING like shotgun spray. One of them SMACKS into a limousine, CRUSHING it.

FERNANDO: Jesus ing Christ! Get out of the car, Jack!

Jack gets out and follows Fernando – not sure where he's going, but he's drawing a pistol. Fernando slides over the hood of a car and pushes through the frightened observers.

Fernando FIRES his gun into the air as he shoves a picture-taking tourist to the ground. As the pedestrians clear, he spots a man in a teal suit entering a Corvette. He takes aim and squeezes off a shot.

The rear tire pops. The driver tries to get the car moving, but Fernando puts a hole through a front tire, rendering the car useless.

The driver, a Rastafarian named REX, gets out, armed with an Uzi and opens up on Fernando.

FERNANDO!

He dives behind a car as bullets whiz past him, blowing through shop windows and narrowly hitting pedestrians.

A swarm of bullets pepper the car, SHATTERING glass, popping tires and tearing its outer shell to pieces. Fernando returns fire until his pistol runs out of ammo. He fumbles for another clip.

JACK

Watches the scene from the flaming wreckage of the Colony. Fernando's in trouble...a 45 usually doesn't do too well against a submachine gun. He decides to take action, CHARGING for Rex.

Fernando sees him and keeps firing to cover for Jack.

Jack pulls out his giant brick cell phone and WHAM! SMACKS Rex over the head with it. The gunman drops his Uzi and falls forward against his bullet-riddled car. He tries to break free – Jack KNEES him in the groin.

JACK: Don't even think about it, hole.

Fernando holsters his 45 and joins Jack.

FERNANDO: Nice takedown. You saved my .

JACK: Don't mention it. This guy ain't .

REX: Get your hands off me, pig! You donn know who you messing with! I got friends!

FERNANDO: Sure you do. Now tell me, did you plant the bomb in the hotel?

REX: you, pig, I ain't talkin'!

FERNANDO (Face turning red with frustration): I'm warning you...

Jack gently pushes Fernando aside.

JACK: Here. Let me show you how it's done.

Jack grabs Rex and THROWS him against the car. He grabs him by the collar and leans in until their faces are only separated by a few inches.

JACK (At the top of his lungs): WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?

Rex doesn't respond.

Jack SLAMS him into the car again, breaking a window.

JACK: TELL ME WHO YOU WORK FOR OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL KILL YOU!

Rex is scared shitless. A wet stain is forming at the crotch area of his pants.

REX: I...I don't know his name...he jus' tell me to put a bomb in da hotel and blow it up. That's all I do, my man, I swear.

Fernando looks to Jack.

FERNANDO: What do you think, Jack?

JACK: This guy's small time. He's telling the truth. Whoever he's working for used him as bait. Ain't that right, "brudda"?

REX: Ya! Iss all gravvy, man – now lemme go!

FERNANDO: We don't have time for this. Lets just take him back to HQ and let them deal with him.

JACK: Yeah.

He picks Rex up by the arm, squeezing into his bicep. Rex winces.

INT. CTU MIAMI – MORNING

CTU Miami is completely different than the CTU of today – the cold steel and blue tones are replaced by pastel orange walls, white accents and tiling. Small TVs are mounted inside the walls, displaying everything from the local news to live camera feeds of various places throughout the city. The employees, all dressed in identical powder blue shirts and white pants are seated at desks, working on computers and answering phone calls.

As of now, the local news is covering the Colony Hotel explosion that took place only minutes before. DIRECTOR THOMAS HOWITZER watches from the director's office, shaking his head in disbelief. His aide, brown-nosed rookie KEVIN ARCHER is in the office with him.

HOWITZER: I've never seen anything like this since 'Nam, Archer. This is un-ing-believable.

ARCHER: It sure is a tragedy, sir. Is there anything I can do for you?

HOWITZER: Yeah. Get me Almeida on the phone – I'm gonna tell him to check out the scene.

Archer grabs a phone and punches in Almeida's number. He hands it to Howitzer.

FERNANDO: This is Almeida.

HOWITZER: Fernando. How's the Bauer situation going?

FERNANDO: Good. We're heading back to CTU right now.

HOWITZER: I need you to do me a favor, Fernando. Take a detour and check out the Colony Hotel. The bomber could still be in the area.

FERNANDO: Already did, sir, we got the guy. All thanks to Agent Bauer.

HOWITZER: Good work, Almeida. I'll be waiting for you.

FERNANDO: Right.

Almeida hangs up.

INT. WAREHOUSE – MORNING

Romero Cortez has shacked up in a warehouse at the docks of the Port of Miami. The two former inhabitants of the building, fisherman, lie dead on the floor – throats slit from ear to ear.

Cortez is sitting in a dark corner office only illuminated by the morning sun filtering through the blinds. He's assembling a sniper rifle. As he slides the barrel in place there is a knock at the front door.

He gently sets the half-assembled rifle down and picks up his silenced .45. He tiptoes to the door and flattens up against the wall next to it.

CORTEZ: Who's there?

ARMANDO: It's me. Open the door.

Cortez opens the door and holsters the pistol. Armando enters, looking around the place.

ARMANDO (Stepping over the dead bodies): Looks like you made quite the entrance.

CORTEZ: Don't worry. They didn't even know what hit 'em. Would you like me to get rid of them?

ARMANDO: No. We're on a tight schedule, Cortez. Today, everything has to play out exactly as it was planned. There is no room for error.

CORTEZ: I understand.

ARMANDO: Glad to hear it. Now show me the cargo.

CORTEZ: Yes, sir.

Cortez walks into the corner room and exits with a backpack. He sets it on a table and zips it open, revealing two large, black tubes. He hands one of them to Armando.

He unscrews the lid and pours some of the contents onto the table. A pile of small blue pills forms. Armando takes one of the pills, pulls a small electronic device from his pocket and inserts it into a small slot on the device.

After a few moments, a green light FLASHES. Satisfied, Armando places the device back into his jacket and puts a hand on Cortez's shoulder.

ARMANDO: Excellent work, my friend. Your work here is done. Torch the place and meet Vargas at the hideout.

CORTEZ: Yes, sir.

6:59:57

6:59:58

6:59:59

7:00


	3. 24 Miami: Hour 2 7 AM 8 AM

HOUR II: 7 AM – 8 AM

INT. CTU MIAMI – MORNING

As director Thomas Howitzer gets off a phone call, the front doors swing wide open and in walks Jack Bauer and Fernando Almeida with a dreadlocked thug in cuffs. He sets the phone down and walks downstairs to greet them. Rex is still trying to break free, but Jack has a strong grip on the scumbag.

HOWITZER: Agent Almeida, welcome back. I assume this young man is Jack Bauer.

JACK: That's right.

He extends his hand for Howitzer to shake. He shakes it.

HOWITZER: Welcome to CTU Miami, Agent Bauer. As you can see, the place is still under construction right now and we have yet to get most of our systems up and running.

He hands Jack a badge with a photo ID and a big red stamp reading: PROVISIONAL.

HOWITZER: We're a little caught up in the Colony incident and there's not enough time to get you fully registered. As of now, you're on provisional status. Any questions?

JACK: Yeah. Do I have to wear a uniform?

Howitzer scowls.

HOWITZER: Agent Almeida – please escort Agent Bauer to his workstation.

FERNANDO: Right this way, Jack.

Fernando leads Jack through the maze of cubicles.

JACK (Smiling): Somehow I get the feeling the chief doesn't like me to much.

FERNANDO: Don't mind Howitzer. He's just a ballbuster. Listen, everyone here is going through a lot of stress right now with the Colony explosion and the Palmer speech. And the last thing we need to do is piss Howitzer off.

JACK: I understand.

Fernando stops at a tiny desk in the very back corner of the building.

FERNANDO: Well, here we are Jack.

A tall, fat stack of papers is piled on the desk.

FERNANDO: Enjoy.

Fernando walks away.

JACK: You gotta be ing kidding me...

Jack sits down and begins his load of paperwork.

INT. GREEN ROOM – MORNING

Located a floor below the main offices of CTU Miami is a small, square room known as the "Green Room" due to its pastel green wall paint. There's a mirror that covers one of the walls. On the other side of it is a room filled with recording and surveillance equipment set to monitor everything that happens in the green room.

Sitting at a steel table in the center of the room is the Rastafarian bomber Rex. He's chained to his chair, but still trying to break out of it. Howitzer and Fernando enter the room.

HOWITZER: So this is the guy who blew up the hotel?

FERNANDO: Yeah.

Howitzer sits at the chair nearest to Rex. He inches closer.

HOWITZER (Snaps his fingers): You. What's your name?

REX: you, brudda! You ain't getting' another word outta me!

HOWITZER: Listen to me, you son of a , you just detonated a bomb within this city. That's a terrorist attack – you'll be spending at least 25 years in Guantanamo just for that. That building was also filled with innocent people too...and you'll get a life sentence for each life you took...needless to say you'll be serving a life sentence for each one of those lives you took. But if it were up to me...

Howitzer unholsters his 357 and puts it to Rex's head.

HOWITZER: I'd put a bullet in your head right now. But since I can't do that...we'll just have to settle this by the book. Now as much as I despise you, if you tell me everything I need to know, I can probably cut your punk a deal.

REX: Yo no see wha's happening here? It has only jus' begun my friend. Soon this little fire will be da least of your worries...Armageddon is coming, brudda and it will all begin in about an hour.

Rex grins. Howitzer looks to Fernando.

HOWITZER: Bring in Jack Bauer.

INT. HOTEL ROOM – BILTMORE – MORNING

CARLOS CERVANTES is inside his hotel room getting dressed for the day. After he finishes tying his tie, he slips on a black Armani jacket, grabs a manila folder and walks out of the room.

Outside is a large crowd of people – men and women in business suits. He moves through the crowd and finds Mayoral Candidate Palmer at the buffet table, filling a cup of coffee.

CERVANTES: Congressman Palmer – good morning.

PALMER: Good to see you, Carlos. How's progress on the speech coming?

CERVANTES: Excellent. (Hands Palmer the folder) This is the newest draft of it, sir. I've added all the key points that you asked for, sir – including details on Congressman Pike's involvement with the Klan.

PALMER: Thank you. I'm sure you've been briefed on the death threats, right?

CERVANTES: I'm afraid not, sir.

PALMER: Don't worry about it. I'll take a look at the speech compare it with my own personal draft. Thank you, Carlos.

CERVANTES: My pleasure, sir.

Cervantes turns and walks into the bathroom at the end of the hall. He exchanges "hi's" with a man who is just exiting. After the coast is clear, Carlos gets inside a stall, closes the door and places a call on his cell phone.

Armando Ortega picks up.

ARMANDO: Yes?

CERVANTES: Armando. It's Carlos. The Congressmen is going over the speech right now.

ARMANDO: When do the festivities begin?

CERVANTES: 8:30. Right on time.

ARMANDO: Good. We'll be ready. Just remember, Carlos...while the congressman is giving his speech...steer clear of the stage.

Armando hangs up.

INT. GREEN ROOM – MORNING

Jack steps into the Green Room and closes the door behind him. Rex immediately recognizes him and starts SHOUTING.

REX: YOU!

Rex cowers in fear. Jack moves forward, grabs Rex by the collar and drags his chair back into the wall. The stain in his pants grows wider and darker. Fernando and Howitzer back away.

HOWITZER: He said something about another target, but he wouldn't say who or what it was.

JACK: Not a problem.

Rex is shaking. Jack moves in closer...

JACK: I'm only gonna ask you once. Who is the target?

REX: If I tell you, I'm dead!

JACK: Same thing happens if you don't tell me. WHO IS THE TARGET?

Rex is shuddering...he finally blurts it out.

REX: CONGRESSMAN PALMER!

Jack lets go of Rex.

HOWITZER: We already knew there was a death threat on Palmer...but we didn't know the urgency of it. But now that we do, we better warn him. Fernando – call his office. Tell them to cancel the speech.

FERNANDO: Yes, sir.

HOWITZER: Good work, Jack.

JACK: Thank you.

INT. CORRIDOR – MORNING

Fernando walks out of the green room and quickly calls Palmer's office. Palmer picks up.

PALMER: This is David Palmer.

FERNANDO: Congressman, this is Fernando Almeida at CTU. Listen, I'm afraid we have some troubling news, sir.

PALMER: Don't waste your breath, Agent Almeida. I know perfectly well about the death threat and my people are handling it accordingly.

FERNANDO: Sir, we have reason to believe that the attempt on your life will be carried out by the same people that detonated a bomb at the Colony Hotel about a half-an-hour ago.

PALMER: What's your source?

FERNANDO: We captured the man who planted the bomb at the hotel. He informed us that you were one of the targets of his group.

PALMER: My god...what are you suggesting?

FERNANDO: That you cancel the speech immediately.

PALMER: You know I can't do that, Almeida. Today is the 2nd most important day in my campaign and I am not about to ruin it because of this. But if you want to help, send a CTU security team over to the Biltmore now.

Palmer hangs up.

Fernando walks back into the Green Room.

HOWITZER: Did you speak to Palmer?

FERNANDO: Yeah. He wants us to send a security team over to his hotel.

HOWITZER: Alright. I want you, Stanton, Briggs and Bauer to head over there. Keep me up to speed on everything as it happens.

FERNANDO: Yes, sir. Come with me Jack.

Fernando and Jack leave the room and walk up the stairs. CHARLIE STANTON and SHANE BRIGGS of the FIELD OPS department are already waiting there.

STANTON: Howitzer said you guys needed some help.

FERNANDO: Yeah. Let's get suited up, I'll brief you on the way over there.

INT. BILTMORE – BALLROOM – MORNING

PALMER FOR MAYOR campaign banners are hung up all over the room, along with red white and blue banners and other Miami-themed decorations. Palmer's campaign manager, RACHEL VALLANCE is on the stage with Carlos Cervantes going over the final copy of the speech.

VALLANCE: I don't think he's doing the right thing by eliminating Congressman Pike from the speech...something's not right here.

CERVANTES: What do you think it is?

VALLANCE: He's afraid of something. Think there's any way Pike could behind the threats. I mean – the guy is ex KKK.

CERVANTES: You know. But once CTU arrives, this place is going to be guarded better than Fort Knox.

VALLACE: I sure hope so.

Cervantes pats her on the shoulder and walks backstage. He passes the room where Palmer's getting make up applied and locks himself into a small, empty dressing room. He makes another call on his cell phone.

Vargas picks up.

CERVANTES: Antonio. Send your men over now.

VARGAS: Have you secured an entrance yet?

CERVANTES: We have a problem. CTU is sending a team of their best men over...there's no way anyone's getting in through any of the ground entrances.

VARGAS: You work for this campaign, Cervantes – do what your being paid for and get us an entrance!

CERVANTES: The roof is clear. Your men can probably get in through the glass dome on the top of this ballroom. It won't be quiet, but you should have the element of surprise on your side.

VARGAS: That shouldn't be a problem.

CERVANTES: How many men are with you?

VARGAS: Ten. The best that Mariel had to offer. Our orders from Armando are to kill anyone that gets in our way except for Palmer. Do me a favor and get out of the building before the bullets start flying.

CERVANTES: I'll do my best.

Cervantes hangs up.

INT. VARGAS' APARTMENT – MORNING

Vargas is in a seedy apartment with 9 other, muscle bound Cubans – all are dressed in black with bullet proof vests and utility belts equipped with all sorts of gear. Cortez is among them, putting the finishing touches on his sniper rifle.

INT. CTU ARMORY – MORNING

Stanton, Jack, Fernando and Briggs are loading up. Stanton's got a laser sight equipped sniper rifle, Jack's loading up a USP and Fernando and Briggs are going with submachine guns.

FERNANDO: Here's the deal, guys. The same men that blew up the hotel this morning are planning a hit on Congressman Palmer. Now we don't know the reason behind it – but we know one thing: they're serious. And if we don't get there in time, they might damn well kill the man. So we gotta get there quickly and keep the Congressman under watch at all times. Are we clear?

JACK, STANTON and BRIGGS: Yes, sir!

FERNANDO: Good. Now let's move out.

EXT. CTU – MORNING

Jack, Fernando, Briggs and Stanton walk out of CTU Miami dressed like secret servicemen with a Miami twist – white linen suits, no tie, no belt, no socks and pastel T-shirts instead of the traditional white button downs. They get inside a white FORD van and pull out of the CTU parking lot.

INT. VAN – MOVING – DAY

Stanton, the sniper, meticulously cleans and polishes his sniper rifle. He adjusts the sights, makes sure the magazine is in tight and tests the cocking mechanism.

BRIGGS: What the hell are you doin', Stanton?

STANTON: Making sure everything's locked and loaded before we go...I'm hoping to put this baby to good use today.

FERNANDO: Shut up, Stanton. You'll jinx us.

STANTON: C'mon, Almeida. You don't actually believe in that do ya?

FERNANDO: Better safe than sorry, my friend.

STANTON: True.

FERNANDO (To Jack): I read your record before you came in today, Jack, and frankly I'm a little worried about this.

JACK: Why?

FERNANDO: You've got quite the reputation of being a shoot-first-ask-questions-later kind of a guy. We can't deal with that on a job like this. If – God willing this doesn't happen – the congressman comes under fire, you have to negotiate before you start blowing heads off.

JACK: Fernando, these guys aren't the kind that negotiate. And judging by Rasta, they're pretty in' determined. If I see anything that poses a threat to the congressman, you're damned right I'm gonna shoot first and ask questions later.

FERNANDO: Whatever. But I'm not gonna take the blame for your...

BOOM! An RPG SLAMS into the van from a rooftop nearby! The impact sends it rolling, fire spewing out. Jack grabs onto a side railing and holds on for dear life as his fellow agents bounce around the van.

Stanton is tossed into the back of the van, ending up impaled on a rack. As fire races inside, Jack LEAPS forward, propelling himself through the front windshield.

He ROLLS on the pavement, asphalt CUTTING through his white suit and digging into his skin. Fernando FLIES out and lands next to him, quickly pushing himself off the ground and helping Jack up.

Behind them, the VAN EXPLODES in fiery FLASH, launching debris every which way. Cars swerve, crashing into shop windows and other vehicles.

FERNANDO: C'mon! Let's go!

Another RPG is FIRED. It WHIZZES by Jack and CRASHES into a shop. The resulting explosion knocks him to the ground and launches flying shards of glass into the sea of pedestrians.

JACK (Getting up): LOCATE THE SHOOTER!

Fernando scans the rooftops with his gun. He spots a ski-mask wearing man on the top of a parking garage with a rocket propelled grenade launcher. He FIRES a burst, ripping a red line of holes across his chest.

FERNANDO: Shooter's down!

Jack doesn't respond.

Fernando turns to face him and sees...

A team of SIX HEAVILY ARMED GUNMEN in ski-masks and urban camo heading toward them. He lowers his weapon.

FERNANDO: Oh Hell no...

They OPEN FIRE!

7:59:57

7:59:58

7:59:59

8:00


End file.
